c: @tomshelbystitsfics - Tumblr Blog

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

finally posting all of what i have wrote. its been a while but im alright with it. & ill keep writing if people like it, or maybe this can be an angsty stand alone:)

excuse any grammar or punctuation errors my writing skills def arent perfect & ive read through this a million times so its all blurred together

anywho enjoy!!!!:)

Home. Home? What did that word mean to you? It was a noisy, dirty, yet charming city. An old house, at least sixty years old. Paint now peeling, gutters full of old leaves and shit. Home, a minute's walk across the road. Inside a warm dish of delicious food awaits. Michael hands you that first plate. There it was, the moment of truth. Determining if you were friend or foe. Not really though, just testing to see if you were a narc. (Later you would argue with Mikey that his logic made no sense whatsoever.)

You found a home in the dysfunctional, crazy ass Berzatto family. They quickly accepted you as one of their own. Having been Carmy’s best (and only) friend. Always so polite and sweet. Until Mikey or Richie pissed you off. They were always picking on you and Carmy. And sometimes they pushed hard enough to set you off. That is exactly why you’re all in this situation now.

“Fucking A. You ain’t gotta hit me that hard asshole! Seriously, it was just a fucking joke man! Lighten the FUCK UP!” Richie yelled. You sat across the island from him. Mikey was digging through the freezer. He was trying to find something to ice Richie’s face. You had given the bastard a black eye and a bloody fucking nose. Mikey was more than impressed. So was Richie, but he wouldn’t be telling you that any fucking time soon.

“I’m sorry Rick,” he scowled as you called him that. “I tried to warn ya that you went too far, but no, you just had to go there.” He just stared at you, deadpan. You sucked in a breath, cheeks puffed out. Head in your hands you let out the breath. Standing up and making your way in front of the man. A hand extended out, an olive branch.

Scoffing he smacked the hand away. Your chest tightened, Richie was basically your older brother. His rejection hurt, a fucking lot in fact. Not wanting him to see the tears starting to well up, you start to turn away. That is when you feel it. Two long, solid arms wrap around you. Twisting around, you rest your chin on his shoulder and grasp the back of his old ass hoodie tight. Fingers clenching the fabric.

“It’s all good Doll. I still love ya, cousin. Even if you broke my goddamn nose.” Richie held you, then after a beat, “I mean shit. My cheekbone feels like a grown man split it, kid.” The tender moment was over for now. Richie is trying to make a joke out of it. You smirk, shoving him by the shoulders into his previous seat.

“ ‘S what ya get asswipe! Quit fucking with her when she says. It’s called ‘boundaries’ cousin? Ever heard of the concept?” Mikey slapped a steak on his eye. The other man groaned.

“FUCK SAKES MIKEY! Please, could ya be a little more considerate or some shit? I already got rocked. Don’t need a worse fucking bruise.” Mumbling as he pushed Mikey’s hand away, holding the slab of meat.

“I am not eating that shit later Mikey, no fucking shot.” Giggling, you give the man a kiss on the cheek. “What’s for dinner anyways?” The dark haired man seemed to think for a moment, then said something similar to what landed Richie his shiner and fucked nose.

“Ask Carmy, I’m sure he has a few ideas for what he wants.” Wagging his eyebrows at you. The smirk was audible. Mikey seemed to be proud of himself for the quip.

“Y-You…motherfucker.. I swear I’ll end you, Berzatto. YOU BITCH, C’MERE.” You took off around the island to where he stood in front of the kitchen sink. Richie was screaming and crawling up onto the counter, “ You two fucks better watch out for me. My shit’s busted enough. Get the fuck outta here!”

The memories of Mikey and the family keep swirling through your head as you stand in front of the funeral home. It had been a year since you physically saw any of the Berzatto clan. Too many years since seeing your best friend. Carmen Anthony Berzatto. A name you desperately wanted to forget. The name felt hollow to say, a distant memory. A smoke show that never existed except only in the dark recesses of your mind. Brought up when you wish to torture yourself even more than usual.

Drinking in the cold Chicago air, you begin the trek up the stairs. One measly step at a time. Hoping to calm your racing heart. It felt like the organ was lodged in your throat, bound to come up in a grisly mess at any second. The walk into the foreboding building felt like it took light years and seconds all at once. Standing before the doors, hand hovering over the knob. Psyching yourself up you finally grasp the knob and starting to pull and-

“Fucking Christ! This is fucking insane.” A familiar voice barks out. The door was quickly and haphazardly thrown open. PANG! Jumping back it only caught your arm a bit. The pain was nice and a needed distraction.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry, I-I didn’t realize anyone…” a small gasp of surprise and a tearful chuckle. Then a slow shaky intake of air, “Doll, is-is that you? Or am I just fucking nuts?” Desperation paints his tone. His words crack and waver with emotion, no, sadness and grief. And a bit of hope.

“Hey cousin, I guess it's only fair. An eye for a, uh- arm, I guess. You never did actually get me back.” Your voice was thick with tears ready to be shed. Before you know it you’re shoved into his warm chest. All you smell is stale cigarettes, and his woodsy, Ed Hardy cologne. The aroma of stale smoke, along with bergamot and amber soothes you. There was a time you despised this fucking scent. It was always too strong and pungent. Telling Richie he smelt like a hooker, wanting to piss him off.

“At least one of us is shaking ass and making some cash Doll.” SMACK! Richie shook his hips at you. It was times like these that made you wonder what the fuck is wrong with him. You always tease Richie about this, he was drunk as a skunk. Shaking his ass in-front of Mikey. The eldest Berzatto was doubled over laughing.

Those memories were some of the best. But they still hurt to remember. Suddenly your’e pulled out of your reminiscing by a voice.

“You made it inside yet? ‘Course not, fuck. I-I’m sorry Doll, my brain is fucking lost. I-I don’t have a goddamn clue about what’s going on.” Apologizing and rubbing his nose roughly.

“Can’t lose something you never had Rick.” You smirk, jabbing him in his ribs.

“Hardy har. You got fucking jokes, eh? Nice, real nice…Shit.” Richie let out a loud sigh and looked at his feet, “Don’t call me fucking Rick man. Shit wasn’t cool when you were a kid, sure as shit ain’t cool now pip squeak.” He smacked you lightly on the back of your head. Reaching into his coat he grabs a cigarette, and swings the pack towards you. You quit smoking a year ago. But, fuck it.

It is a funeral after all. Might as well take the edge off somehow. Being sober was fucking awful at times. You both finished the cigarettes in silence. After stubbing the cherry out, you gestured to the door.

“Think we should, uh, ya know?”

Richie swallowed his nerves and gave a single nod. The man had a hold of the handle before you could even think about it. Walking into one of the absolute worst possible situations in your entire fucking life.

The dinner at The Beef was rough. That is putting it lightly. Donna went home, not wanting to be in the restaurant. Being constantly reminded of her son. Sugar and Pete were only there to visit with everyone. Though Sugar mainly wanted to see you. She had missed you dearly, the whole family had.

“Hey Doll, how’ve ya been sweetie? We missed you.” The bear hug, (pun intended), from the woman was nice. And her feelings were mutual. You should have come home sooner. You should have been back before…before.. Well now you’re here, back with the family. Your family. And God, if it didn’t feel fucking right. You smiled at Nat. Giving her a kiss on her cheek before pulling her back into a hug. “Shit, Sugar. I fucking missed you.” That’s when the flood gates opened and you both started to bawl your eyes out. Mikey was basically a father figure for both of you. The Berzatto’s was a shithead and so was yours.

You may have loved your father, but even you could admit he was a complete and utter asshole. So Mikey stepped in. He raised you with his siblings. Since they knew what it was like to grow up with an alcoholic mother, they sympathized with you. Vincent (L/N) could never be sober. He barely managed to be functional for work. Let alone for his kid. But he had to keep his job, otherwise no booze, and no house. That just wouldn’t do for Mr. Vincent.

Sugar pulled you to a booth, she grilled you about last year. Wondering where all you had traveled for work. What had you written about? Have you ever interviewed actors? Celebrities? Any particular, rising star chefs? Quickly you shut her down.

“We haven’t spoken in years. Carmy hasn’t responded to any of my calls or texts since he went to culinary school. I got nothing,” You were rambling, “nada, zip… It’s all good though, he’s busy I’m sure. I was following his work for a while and he’s been super successful. He won an award for best and upcoming chef. Now that is insane!” Trailing off you start to pick at your nails, “ I’m sure you guys are super proud of him. I am, I guess.”

Nat looked at you with a shared sympathy. Carmy hadn’t spoken to her in a long while, but for him to not speak to you? That is outlandish and makes no fucking sense. Carmy loved you. And everyone could see it. Classic Berzatto self sabotage. Can’t ever have anything nice for themselves.

“Well, I never claimed that my brothers were smart.” Sugar let out a small sad laugh. Then it hit. The silence was long and rough. The slip up, she didn’t mean anything by it, they all just joked like that. ”Nat, I am so fuckin-” You are abruptly cut off.

“Do NOT say it. Please, I know, I know. I just cant hear another ‘I’m sorry’ right now. And I know you actually mean it when you say it. Because things won’t be the same for you either. He was your brother too. Now the bastards left us, and we gotta pick the pieces up. God, I fucking miss him Doll.” Natalie’s head was in her hands, the sniffles only increasing. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It pained you to see one of your dearest friends in so much agony.

You two spent another hour talking. At some point Pete had come over and joined the conversation. Looking at the time he asked Nat if she was ready. Reluctantly, she agreed that they should head out. Turning to you, her eyes filled with so much sorrow, and hope. “You’re home for a while, right Doll?” With tearful eyes you give a nod. And engulf her in a hug. Breath shaky, “Course, I’m home now Sugar. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Promise, cross my heart.”

There was no need to finish the childish oath. She knew you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. The three of you said your goodbyes. You sat in the booth. An old ass picture in your hands. The edges had started to deteriorate, the ink rubbing off in spots. But the image was still clear. The three Berzatto siblings, Richie, and finally you. Mikey and Richie stand on either side of Nat, giving her bunny ears and making dumb faces. Sugar was sticking her tongue out. In front of them you and Carmy stood back to back, making a finger gun and looking all serious. You were all younger. Carmy and you were in middle school.

“I remember when we took that picture. You little assholes took forever to decide what to do. Ended up doing some Charlies Angel’s bullshit.” Richie lit a cigarette. He flopped down into the booth, pulling out his pack of smokes. Grabbing one and throwing the rest onto the table. “Good ole days huh? God. What I wouldn’t do to go back.” Reaching for his hand, stealing his cigarette for a puff.

“Man, Carmy wanted to look badass for the picture,” voice full of smoke, “ And I just watched it and thought it would look cool.” Blowing the smoke out at Richie. “Also fuck you, Charlies Angel’s is a good ass movie. Dickhead.” He rolls his eyes, swiping the smoke back from you.

“You two were nerds. It’s fine to admit Doll, I’ll still love you.” Richie clasped his hands together, feigning a serious attitude. Shoving his hands you laugh at him. “I don’t know about Carm, but I most definitely still am a nerd. I have a wide range of tastes, alright?” You say defensively.

He leans forward, “Speaking of tastes, I gotta mighty big ask of ya cousin. Only if you feel up to it of course. And as long as it doesn’t disrupt your work.” Gesturing for Richie to go on. He takes a puff, deep in thought. Finally exhaling, “I wanna know if you would want to work here at the restaurant, just for a little while. Till we figure something’s out.”

The world seemed to stop. All the air was pushed out of your lungs. There was a faint ringing sound. You didn’t know what to say. As childish as it sounds, it felt wrong. Why? You were supposed to work for Mikey and Carmy when they finally opened their restaurant. Mikey said it was something about wanting only his family working for him, i.e you and Carmy. It wouldn’t be the same.

Not at all. But at least you could still feel close to the oldest Berzatto somehow. You wrestled with the thought of doing it. In a way you would be doing what he wanted. He always wanted you to work there, but you loved writing and being creative. And Mikey would always push you to do what you wanted to do. He was your number one supporter, well he was. After Carmy stopped caring about your career and wellbeing.

”I mean, are you s-sure? Like completely sure? I don’t know the first thing about cooking.” You say quietly, almost scared he would take the offer back.

“Course I’m fucking sure Doll. Mikey always wanted you there, and in a way this is us just doing that. Keeping the business only family. And cooking ain’t an issue, you can do front of house shit. ‘S what I do. And fuck, I can use a hand sometimes.”

Richie looked close to tears now. He was absolutely terrified you would say no. And that would break him. He wanted you to be here, he needed family. Sugar could barely stand him, Carmy didn’t fucking speak to anyone. Mikey was fucking gone. You were his only hope.

Shit.

“Alrighty, Rick. I’ll do it. But I can’t make any promises I’ll actually be of any help, okay?” You tell him slowly. Richie launches himself across the small space of the booth. The hug is so tight you can’t even draw in a breath. Still, you hug him back just as hard.

“I fucking love you Doll. Thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. How much it would mean to him…” The feeling of Richie’s unsteady breaths and the sobs get to you. You grab his stupid leather jacket as tight as possible. Not wanting to let go of him. The fear of losing anyone else was slowly getting to you. But you wouldn’t let anything happen. To anyone.

You would make sure of it.

Things had been, well fucking rough. There’s no better way to put it. Mikey had left the place in shambles. Though Richie and you did your absolute best to pick up the pieces. It was fucking hard though. Especially since Richie had forgotten to drop a major bomb that morning.

It was a cold morning in March. Chicago was always fucking freezing. You unlocked and slung the door open, the warm air felt amazing. Stepping in and pulling your jacket off, you made your way to the office. Turning all the lights on, and starting to get things ready. Prepping some items, and pulling out the equipment for everyone. After about an hour of helping as much as possible, (you still had very limited knowledge of how to actually make the food), you returned to the office. Attempting to try and organize a box of old records, which you had been unsuccessful in. It was literally just random paper shoved into a box labeled ‘SHIT WE NEED?’.

There were countless receipts from vendors, and even other restaurants. It looked like Mikey was maybe trying to look at pricing? There were some notes about how he wanted to keep it affordable, and still needed to pull a profit. There were notices from the IRS. Apparently Mikey wasn’t too keen on paying the government. You laugh as you look at each of the documents, “I get it cousin. Bastards don’t need anymore than what they already get.” Muttering to yourself , you continue to make piles. Shit that can be tossed, important documents, maybe helpful? And the list goes on.

You had so many different stacks of paper. Nearing the end, there was something else in the box. It had skittered around when you had hit the box. Reaching in, you dig around until you find it. And fuck, you wish you wouldn’t have.

In your hand you held an old cellophane baggie, it was filled with the broken remnants of pills. There were probably about five in there. Two remained whole, and possibly three were splintered into little white shards. You swallowed hard. Setting the plastic down. You took a deep breath. You had to keep a level head. Just, deep breaths. Breathe.

That’s when you heard the door slam from the wind. Quickly, swiping the bag off the desk, shoving it in your pants pocket. You didn’t want anyone else to find it and panicked. It was a second hand response, and the sound of footsteps had derailed your train of thought.

Marcus was the first there, “Good morning boss. How’s it going?” You welcomed the distraction. It made you realize what the priority was. And sorting paperwork was useless and made no sense.

“Good morning Marcus. And it’s going, uh I pulled some stuff out for you guys. But it’s only a bit. What I did pull is only stuff I’ve seen you guys use daily, so..” You told him while fiddling with your pocket absentmindedly.

Marcus nodded, and stepped away towards his locker. After he had put his things away, he made his way to his station. Giving everything a once over, you had done alright. He even checked out the other things you had set out. Quickly the others filtered in. Tina came in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning mama. Thank you for helping!” The older woman looked up at you with a smile. You had been around constantly when you were younger, and she seemingly never forgot. Which made it easier on you when paying your dues. Plus you knew fuck all in the kitchen so you tried not to get in the way. Didn’t wanna step on any toes.

“No problem T, I had a few extra hours when I got here this morning. So I figured, aye, why not?” Passing by Marcus, you smelled his amazing bread. Back peddling, you spoke, “Hey Marcus, you care if I get a roll? I forgot to grab something on the way in.” You gave your best puppy dog eyes playfully.

Marcus rolled his eyes and chucked a hoagie loaf at you. Catching it in between your hands, you bow to him. Grateful to have something on your stomach. You quickly made your way to the office. Grabbing your count list so you can count stock. You grabbed some water and shoved the loaf down your throat. Then started in the walk-in cooler, and freezer. As well as the stand alones. Now for dry stock.

Looking at your watch, it was 10:37. Where was he? “Anybody seen or heard from Richie?” Everyone looked at each other and either said no or shook their heads. Fuck. That means he’s gonna be late for sure. And so you're gonna have to finish his prep. Finishing count as fast as possible,(leaving some of it for later, fuck it). You reach into the fridge up front. Getting the sauces and the little to go containers. Filling about two hundred in about twenty minutes. Not knowing how many you’d need. Writing the date on the metal tin.

Luckily, last night you stayed over to separate the forks and what not. After finishing the sauces you made sure every condiment bottle was full. Knowing they most definitely needed topped up. Richie always admitted to forgetting to do it.

“What is up cousin?! How are we? Good morning!” Richie reached across the counter and kissed your cheek. He finally paused long enough to look at you. You looked pissed. Arms crossed, tired eyes, and red faced. “You’re late, cousin. Where were you? Oh and your prep is done, by the way. You're welcome.”

Snatching a few napkins, cleaning and wiping up your spills. Richie gave you a hug. As much as he could across the counter. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I appreciate it so much. And actually when I was meeting with Sugar she had some crazy news for me.” He took a swat, lightening up a smoke.

“Crazy news? What did Pete fall down the stairs or something?” You began to worry about the man. He was like an honorary brother-in-law. Richie let out a deep belly laugh. “Nope, the narcs fine. But, uh, it's a lot Doll. You might wanna have a seat-”

Ebraheim appeared in the doorway, “Boss, we need more meat. I don’t have nearly enough beef for today. We only have two.”

“What about last nights carry over? There should be some in the walk-in, right?” You said rubbing your eyes.

“No, there is. But only three trays. Rich told me to leave a note on the desk. I left it on the board. It’ll be enough for maybe dinner and lunch.” Ebra spoke quickly. He began to feel nervous.

Fucking shit. Glancing at your wrist, 10:50. “Alright. Richie, you finish prep, get everything ready, make sure we get those two roasts going now Ebra. Rick, I mean it. Make sure everyone is good please, it’s Saturday, we may be slow during lunch, but dinner is a different story.”

Richie just nodded quickly, ignoring you calling him Rick. He knew you had to be stressed. “Yeah, of course, captain. I got this in the bag!”

Rushing back into the office you grabbed your coat and some money. “Ebra, how many are we thinking?”

“Maybe three more? If we could boss.” He didn’t wanna over or underestimate what you would need. But you had confidence in him. The man knew what was up.

“Heard. Everyone, Richie is, sadly, in charge for now. I will be back. Keep up the great work guys! Maybe I’ll make us something if today goes well!” Everyone began to talk and cheer lightly. You weren’t the most outstanding baker, but they still loved whatever you made. Sweeps and Fak agreed that it was like eating something as a kid. Full of good memories.

You ran through the restaurant, “Hey woah! Behind you!” Ebra needed beef, so you would get him some damn beef.

Once you left, Richie let out the biggest sigh. “Shit.”

Tina turned to the man, “What’s your issue puta? Scared of a little responsibility?’ Tina nudged him in the ribs, smirking at him. Richie laughed, then looked solem.

Shaking his head, “Nah, T. Uhh, Carm’s back in town. He was supposed to get here around 11. I was trying to warn her, but of course she took off too fast.” Truthfully he didn’t wanna say a word, but Sugar was gonna be here. And she told him that he needed to tell you. She was going to, but Richie had taken the opportunity by saying he needed to.

Sugar didn’t deserve to see you like that. You were either going to lose your shit and go ballistic, or cry your fucking eyes out. And Richie, honestly hated both fucking options.

At the butcher’s you had bartered for meat. Telling him that Lu was gonna get some money. It was just gonna be a bit. What no one at The Beef knew, was that you were paying out of pocket for a lot of shit. Touching the savings that you had from when you were working. It didn’t matter to you, as long as it stayed open.

While you were blocks away, Carmy and Sugar arrived at the restaurant. When they opened the door they were met with silence, and then “FUCK! I thought Fak fixed this shit!” Richie was always so loud.

“Oh yeah, definitely missed that Sugar.” Carmy looked behind at his sister. She hadn’t been here since the funeral. Even though you tried to convince her a few times. But you never wanted to push. So after a while you gave up. You accepted Nat would do things on her own time.

Carmen and Natalie walked into the kitchen, everyone was laughing and talking over each other. Richie was cursing and screaming about Fak, when he caught sight of him. “Fucking Fak, always just rigging bullshit. I swear to God, I’m gonna beat his fucking-” he paused, “Holy shit. I didn’t think you would actually come back home. Shit cousin.”

Carmen shook his head and gave a weak smile, “Good to see you too cousin.”

Right then you came in. “RICHIE FUCKING HELP! These are fucking heavy! Ebra please tell me you have the other roasts ready?!”

Richie rushed out to help you, and so did Sugar and a few of the guys. Carmen stood rigid. It couldn’t be.

“Shit, thank you. Oh shit, Nat! You made it, I’m so glad you finally came for lunch!” Sugar looked at Richie. Her face was full of irritation. Marcus glanced at Ebra. It was unspoken, grab the shit and run. They promptly thanked you, snatched the roasts, and ran to the back. They were wanting to avoid whatever this was as much as they could. They passed by Carmy who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Richie, what the fuck? Did you not fucking tell her?” Sugar snapped at the man.

“In my defense, I didn’t have time to, she had to run and grab beef-”

“That’s not a fucking excuse! You shoulda called her as soon as we talked!”

They continued to argue, and you were over it. “JESUS FUCK! Someone tell me what the FUCK is going on? I gotta get lunch ready to go, guys!” You were beyond pissed hating that they were talking about you like this. You weren’t a child you could handle whatever it was surely.

At that moment you looked past the two bickering cousins and saw him. Carmen Anthony fucking Berzatto. And he’s looked just as shocked as you. “What the fuck guys?!” You whisper yelled at the pair. “Why is he fucking here?” Tears were blurring your vision.

Sugar cleared her throat, “Dipshit was supposed to tell you.” She gestured towards Richie.

“What the fuck Sugar, I. Didn’t. Have. TIME! What are you not understanding?!”

“Bear..I mean Carmen, technically well uh..Mikey um.”

Richie interrupted her, “Jesus fuck, rip the band aid off.” He turned to you, “Mikey left everything to fucko over there. He’s the owner Doll.” Your ears were ringing. Your chest felt like it was gonna collapse. Not even realizing it you were reaching into your pants pocket. Reaching for the baggie. Wanting to just forget for a while.

“You’re shitting me, right Rick? This is fucking insane. I-I gotta go. I can’t- I just can’t.” You look at Sugar, “Could you grab my stuff from the office,” pivoting to Richie, “ You. Outside, we got some housekeeping. And I need a fucking smoke.”

Carmy was completely shocked. You never wanted to smoke. Your dad used to and you absolutely fucking hated the smell.

When you got outside you punched the wall. Flexing your hand to get rid of the stiffness. There Richie finds you and looks down at the limb. “Kid, listen I know it's gonna be hard, but maybe you can talk some-”

Slowly you look up from the ground. All you can see is red. “What. The. Fuck?! What do you mean talk to him Richie? HE STOPPED TALKING TO ME! TO ALL OF US! LET US IN THE FUCKING DUST! And now I’m supposed to kiss ass? No. No fucking shot. I love you, but fuck that. A-and fuck you if you think it’s my fault.” You kept rambling. Suddenly Richie just grabs you.

“Shut the fuck up man. It’s not your fault, that little fucker in there did it. I just want to see if maybe he would give us the restaurant. Ya know, 50/50. IF, and it’s a big if, he doesn’t wanna just turn tail and fuck off. It’s a lot, but I won’t ask that of you.” He brings you in for a hug, “I can see how much it would tear you up. So, we take it one day at a time. But really, talk to him. Please Doll. You deserve answers.”

You pulled away to look him in the face. Nodding, you just bury your head in his chest all over again. What you didn’t know was that Carmy was watching the whole thing. It hurts to watch you be so close to someone. Especially Richie, when it used to be you two against him and Mikey. Now it seemed to be you two against him.

“You fucked up. Big time.” Sugar patted him on the back.

“Alright, everyone should be ready for service. Uh, Marcus is finishing up a few more pans of loafs, obviously Ebra is working his magic. Um, oh I went through a box. It’s on the desk and it had some papers. I think some of them were important? I have them kinda organized, it’s not hard to figure out. I-I uh, also found..” reaching into your pocket. “..shit. I found…Fuck it, here.” Shoving the baggie into Richie’s chest. That is when Sugar happens to walk out.

“What the hell Doll, again?” Nat looked at you with fear and sorrow in her eyes. Ritchie just cursed as he shoved it into his inner jacket pocket. “Fucking Mikey, goddamn it.”

“No, no I fucking am not. I-I found it in one of Mikey’s boxes. I just didn’t want anyone to find it.” The pair of them just stared at you, knowing there was more. “And M-Marcus may have come in and it spooked me. Old habits die hard.” You try to laugh about it. They were not having it. Not one bit.

Carmen chose to walk out then. Everyone just stared at him. But he could only look at you. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?” Sugar and Richie were already heading in. Richie said he would call and check on you later, they both wanted to know when you got back home. “Of course, I’ll call you both, I promise. Love you guys.” You gave them a hug, and kissed them on the check.

“We aren’t done talking, kid. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.” Richie says. Reluctantly he lets you go. He knew that it was important for you to talk to Carmen.

Carmy was pissed. He knew you and Rich seemed close. But for you to give him a kiss, (on the cheek mind you), was insane. You looked different. You were still the same person. Though, there was a different air around you.

“You look good, Doll. I just wanted to apologize. And I-I would love if you stayed to help. I well, fuck. I want you to work here. Please. I just, I don’t wanna lose you again. Not yet. And the crew seems like they respect you. Sugar told me that you have been running this place. And I need help sorting through everything.” Carmen stared at the side of your face. He was hopeful. Knowing he could do it himself, but he wanted your help. He wanted you to stay with him. Carmen stares as you take a drag from your cigarette. Exhaling towards the sky, you turn and face him.

“I think the apology is a bit fucking late ain’t it? I mean shit Carm, I spent years, YEARS waiting to hear from you. And you didn’t give a shit. It hurt.” The two of you sat in silence, Carmen knew you were right and didn’t want to try and excuse his shitty behavior. Though, he hated himself for how much he hurt you. He thought that cutting you off was for the best. Insecurity and self hate fueling his decision. You deserved more. So much more than he felt he could offer you.

“What the hell. If I do it, I’m doing it for them,” You gesture to the restaurant, “For Richie and Sug. And, shit. I’m doing it for Mikey. Not you Berzatto. You got that?” His head whipped up. He nods vigorously, “Yeah of course Doll. I understand.” The thought of you saying yes made his heart pound. His pulse was racing in his ears.

“I am going home, and I’ll think about it. I'll let Richie know my answer. Alright?” All he could do was nod. You returned the gesture. Turning on your heel, stubbing out the smoke. Then you were on your way.

Carmen had watched you for a bit, finally he snapped out of it. He was being a creep. He stared at his feet, turning towards the door. Hand on the handle, ready to head in. When he heard someone calling him.

“Berzatto! I’m glad you’re back home.” Walking backwards, you gave him a small wave. Continuing your trek back home. God, Carmy hoped and prayed that you came back. He knew he had missed you, but he didn’t know the extent of it. Carmy felt a void, and it was your absence causing it.

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